


Dynamics

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BDSM, D/s AU, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Impact Play, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a separate fill for the same prompt on the Watchmen kinkmeme, which was simply for a D/s AU since the OP had never seen one in this fandom.  I was delighted to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walter and Dan have a misunderstanding, but they fix it.

Everyone expects Walter to want a collar. Small, weak, poor and not too bright. A pawn in everything, they take it for granted that he would be happiest on his knees if someone would only ask him. Now Daniel, good, caring Daniel who actually seemed to understand about Rorschach and his need for agency, is sitting there with a collar in his hands. It's a nice collar, to be sure. A rich chocolate brown with an o-ring on the front, but just looking at it makes Walter's neck itch, and he suddenly wants to break his partner's spine. For drawing him in like this, for seeming enough like a real friend for Rorschach to show him Walter's weakness and now for betraying him like this.

"No." He folds his arms over his chest, and his voice is flat and final.

"Are you sure? I--"

"NO!" He jumps up, fists clenched. "Not a sub. Don't want a fucking collar." He can feel the way his face is twisted in rage, making him even uglier. Daniel just stares at him with huge eyes, lips parted in surprise, and Walter takes a deep breath, shaking and unsure if he's going to hit him or not.

"Walter, wait." He doesn't want to wait. He wants to leave and never come back, but dear god those are tears in Daniel's eyes. He's a soft and sentimental man, but Walter has never seen him cry. He stops, lip still curled in disgust. Daniel has gone pale, and trembles as he pushes out of his chair to kneel at Walter's feet, eyes on the floor as he holds the collar up, unbuckled ends toward Walter. "Please, master." It's almost inaudible, but hits his ears like a thunderclap.

His hands are shaking as he takes the collar, but steady when he buckles the collar around Daniel's neck, making him whimper softly. "Truly want to be mine?" It's Rorschach's rasp, low in his chest.

"Yes, master." It's soft, sweet and breathy, a deep flush spreading over Daniel's face. Walter tugs him up by the ring on his collar for a rough kiss that makes him moan and clutch at the back of Walter's shirt. Walter shivers and pulls away.

"Give me your shirt, slave." Daniel is perhaps not as graceful as he could be in complying, but his clumsy enthusiasm is charming. Once he's gotten it off, Walter ties the end of one sleeve to the ring, and leads Daniel on all fours to the bedroom. Walter knows his own limits. He's not ready to fuck Daniel yet, much less the inverse. But Daniel definitely needs to be claimed, and Walter gets off to the best start he can. "I suppose you have toys of your own?"

"Yes, master." He's rock hard now, eyes dilated and lost behind his glasses.

"Take your pants off and go fetch me something that stings."

Daniel whines, scrambling out of his pants and crawling to the closet, coming back with a flogger in his teeth, eyes rolling up beseechingly as he sets it at Walter's feet. He shudders, picks it up, and claims his slave. Each strike makes Daniel cry out, helpless and responsive where he grovels on the floor, and his entire back is red before Walter stops. Kneels in front of Daniel and stares into those dark eyes that see nothing but him. Daniel moans at a soft, nearly chaste kiss, and cries out when Walter loosely wraps a hand around his cock where it's so hard and wet.

"Please master, may I come?" It's a breathless whisper as he quivers with the effort to restrain himself, whining softly.

Walter has heard a lot about discipline in his life and does hold it highly, but he can't resist. Just because he's damaged and wounded and not ready to accept his own pleasure doesn't mean he should deprive his slave, so sweet and obedient already.

"Yes." A gentle squeeze, and Daniel is bucking and wailing, slicking his hand and slumping to the floor like his strings have been cut. Walter shudders, and kisses his forehead, dragging a blanket over him with his clean hand before retreating to clean up and take care of himself. He barely needs to be touched any more than Daniel did, and is soon back to hold and love his slave, pressing kisses all along the top of the collar.


	2. Brat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is a brat. Hollis takes him in hand.

"Eddie, honey," Sally sighs, just standing there in her goddamn underwear and giving him a look that's fucking sad more than anything, all that perfect skin glowing against the fire of her hair, "There's no way. Not like you are now."

And he's getting real mad, mad enough to do something stupid, but curious, too. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

She plants her hands on her hips, head cocked. "What side of the collar are you on?"

"Outside." He's going to fucking kill her, now. He's no one's fucking slave and never will be.

"I don't think so, honey." She's calmly pulling on a long red dress, and Eddie feels about ten years old and intolerably stupid. He's going to make her pay for it, really he is. But HJ comes nosing in, and growls for Sally to come on. She does, with a last, sad look at Eddie. He doesn't know what they tell the others, but nobody else comes looking. He makes use of this time alone to ruin Moloch's stupid fucking solar mirror weapon, and then quietly takes his leave. He's got little thin cuts all over from the glass, but it's worth it to picture the look on Nelly's stupid fucking face.

He'd been so fucking proud of his Kraut master for capturing that damn thing. To be fair, it had been proof of a brain somewhere in all that muscle, but still. Simpering little fucker, trying to lead the team with a goddamn collar around his neck. Eddie can see it through his costume. And has been doing his best to ignore a weird feeling it gives him in the pit of his stomach. It's easy to label it is as digust, beating his anger out on whoever gets in his way. Lucky for him it's mostly criminals. He's still young enough to worry sometimes that he's not really one of the good guys. Not on the inside.

Dawn rises over a night of knuckles and teeth and inventive uses of trashcan lids and broken bottles, and there's nothing for Eddie to do but limp his ass home. He can't stay with Rich, Rich's old man is worse than his, and Joey's off with that junkie bitch who's probably got a needle in his dick right now. He snarls under his breath and climbs in through his window, cramming his sweaty, bloody suit under the sagging mattress and catching some sleep. At least it's Saturday. He tosses and turns in guilty dreams of violence and chains as the sun climbs.

He can't look at Sally at the next meeting. He turns all his energy to teasing Hollis, because Hollis will put up with anything. No one's sure if he's a sub or a very soft-spoken and even-tempered dom, but it doesn't matter right now. He rags on his costume, his religion, the cops, and his mother with no result. He keeps it up in a murmur as they crouch in a stakeout, hidden from view by a massive chimney, and all Hollis does is put a finger to his lips and keep watching.

"You wanna a pair of binoculars, champ? Sally moonbathing topless over there and nobody told me?" Hollis blinks, digesting this one. He sits up straight, and turns to Eddie, as if he's about to say something forebearing and fatherly about putting the job first. Eddie barely has time to exult over finally getting to him before Hollis grabs him by the throat and slams him against the chimney's cold bricks, snarling.

"Shut your mouth, punk." His eyes glitter like a slicing edge of glass and he's not really choking Eddie, but his grip tightens, just to remind them both that it's there. For a glazed second Eddie just sits there with his mouth half open, then his instincts kick in and he shoots his hands out to grab Hollis's ears and headbutt him. Of course, his goddamned cocksucking cowl prevents that, and Hollis just presses against him so all Eddie can do is hug the bastard as hard as possible, which he does. Hollis growls and squeezes his throat in return, glaring into his eyes so fiercely that for a moment Eddie entertains a fuzzy, oxygen-deprived notion of shapeshifters. "Edward Morgan Blake," he growls, "I do not have time for your shit."

Holy shit, he didn't know Hollis knew his real name. Holy shit, he's never heard Hollis swear. Eddie makes a gurgling noise of astonishment, eyes as wide as they'll go. "We're doing important work, and you are being a brat. I don't have time to take you over my knee, but someone has to take you in hand." He lets go and Eddie drags in a huge, rattling breath, realizing all of a sudden that he's as hard as he's ever been in his life. For once in his life, he can't think of a single smart remark, not even when Hollis grabs his wrist, grinding it like he's trying to give him a goddamn one-handed indian burn. Sure enough, it leaves a nice red ring that's probably gonna bruise. "Consider yourself collared."

He should laugh. He should fucking laugh, belt Hollis, and find another vantage point. And then find some fucking action if nothing is happening here. Instead he starts to cry, like a complete sissy baby, lip wobbling and everything. Hollis sighs, and gives him a fucking hug. For a second Eddie wants to murder him all over again, but then he just clings. "Take a deep breath, Comedian. We have work to do." He sounds like he doesn't even know how to snarl, and Eddie shivers, breathing deep, then pulling away and wiping his eyes on his sleeve, blinking hard to make sure it's actually fucking stopped.

"So." His voice isn't as steady as he wants it to be, but at least it's not cracking, "What now, boss?"

Hollis smiles. "Now we get back to doing our job." Eddie nods, and gets back to his former position. Lucky for them, absolutely nothing has happened. Hollis is still and calm, despite the case of blueballs Eddie damn well hopes he's not alone with. Everything is shockingly professional, all things considered. "I wasn't too rough on you, was I?"

"Don't be a sissy, Nite Owl."


	3. Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollis wasn't expecting company, but he sure doesn't mind it.

Hollis can't help but worry, later. He's always been a remorseful dom, careful and responsible. Part of it is his near-total lack of sadism. He just doesn't like hurting. It doesn't get him off, doesn't even make him feel powerful. Alone in his apartment he flexes his hand, feeling Eddie's pulse against his palm again. Not the choking, that had just been to make a point, but the holding. That warm beat, the kid's life in his hand. He has to laugh, remembering Eddie's surprise, then winces because he sprung a rib in the fight right after. He stops, winces, and finishes his progress to the fridge for more beer. Sure, it's fattening, but a fella can't be expected to sit around with a popped rib on a hot afternoon and not drink.

Thus justified, he goes to sit on the fire escape with his t-shirt looped over the back of his neck. It's a rare day off from both Officer Mason and Nite Owl, and he closes his eyes, letting the warm breeze roll over him. His mind wanders, and inevitably he starts to wonder where Eddie is. What he's doing today, if he has a peaceful spot and a cold drink or if he's out and prowling around for a fight. His file's a regular old sob story if you know how to read between the lines. Mean drunk daddy he can't protect his mama from, so he's gotta protect New York instead. That and the little pecker just likes hurting people. The subs that can't admit it are always the meanest.

"Hey."

Hollis doesn't jump. He's not gonna give the brat the satisfaction, even if he has done a neat job sneaking down from the roof. "Just wonderin' where you were." He opens his eyes when Eddie jumps down beside him, big boots rattling everything.

"Izzat so?" He's in an undershirt and torn, cuffed jeans, grinning down at Hollis and damn, he's got a pretty face.

"Yeah. Aren't you hot in those boots?"

"Kinda."

"Take 'em off. No shoe thieves in this complex."

"That's what you think." Eddie sits down and hauls his boots off, cursing as one almost falls to the alley below, catching the leather with a sweat slick hand. Hollis can't stop himself from blushing to see the blue-black ring around the wrist.

"...I hope that ain't giving you too much trouble."

"Nah." He sets the boots just inside the apartment, and flexes his pale feet over the void. "Gimme a drink, boss?"

Hollis blinks when Eddie tips his head back, then chuckles and pours a swig of beer into his mouth. He catches most of it, sitting up and wiping his mouth on his forearm. Hollis smiles at him, setting the can down. "So polite today. D'you want something, boy?"

Eddie blushes, and Hollis feels bad for the kid, remembering how young he really is. "You know what? Forget it." He stands, wincing, and casts about for his boots, squeaking when Hollis hugs him from behind.

"I was only kidding. I'm glad to have you here." He walks him into the apartment where the floor isn't hell on bare feet, and turns on all the fans again, throwing his shirt in the general direction of the couch as he goes to the fridge and pulls out a can for Eddie, tossing it to him.

"Thanks, boss." He rolls the cool aluminum over his forehead, then cracks it open, watching as Hollis goes to retrieve the can from the fire escape. "I'm not interrupting a bender, am I?"

"I don't do benders, Eddie. Too old and respectable and tired for that. I'm just working my way through a six pack and ignoring my rib on a day when I've got nothing else to do and you're welcome to join me."

"...Okay." It's softer than Eddie's usual voice, and Hollis feels that deep, half-painful impulse to protect the kid. He settles on the couch and gestures for Eddie to join him, both of them in the blast of an excellent little fan someone threw out because of a tiny wiring fault. Eddie groans and melts back into the couch. "It's so fucking hot at home, you wouldn't believe it."

"I'd believe anything about a New York summer."

"Permission to remove this, boss?" He says it like it's a joke, tugging the hem of his shirt up.

"Go on and make yourself at home." Eddie does, peeling the ribbed cotton off and stretching, groaning happily. "Better?"

"Hell, yes." Eddie sighs and crawls into Hollis's lap, blushing again. "You said to make myself at home, right?"

"I did." Hollis smiles at him, arranging his arms comfortably around the kid, who leans into him making a soft little noise of content. Hollis finishes his beer and pets Eddie while he does the same, hand lightly ruffling his hair, smoothing it down again and flowing on down his back. A little squeeze on his ass, then back up to start over again. It's hypnotic, really. Hollis has never gone for boys, but Eddie has a nice ass. A really nice ass and a pretty mouth and maybe he is just a little bit drunk.

"Feelin' the hooch, boss?"

"Maybe a little." He stops his repetitive stroking to catch Eddie's hand and kiss the bracelet of bruises, surprised at the way it makes the kid shake. He sets his mostly empty beer aside and hugs Eddie tightly. "Hey, hey, it's all right. It's all right, baby." He kisses Eddie's cheek and his mouth, his chin, his forehead, once on each temple... It becomes its own thing, flowing down over his neck and shoulders as he whimpers and goes limp in Hollis's arms with a little cooing noise he wouldn't have believed Eddie could make.

"You all right now, boy?" He says at last, rubbing Eddie's back and kissing the corner of his jaw.

"Yeah," Eddie whispers, and clings to him, raggedy nails biting into Hollis's back. He's quivering, and presses the heat of his hard cock to Hollis's belly. "Yeah, I'm all right. Ohgod."

Hollis hushes him, settling the boy to straddle his lap, kissing his forehead again. He's almost as hard as Eddie is, and grinds up against him a little. "Feel that?"

"Ooohhhhhfuck. Yessir." His eyes are huge, and Hollis wants to laugh, but he's serious about this.

"It's not running this show. I am. If you need to stop, we stop. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"...Too much." He grins, shivering and blushing again.

Hollis grins. "I've never been much for it, but it's different if you like it for its own sake."

"Oh, I do, boss. I do." His face lights up when Hollis laughs.

"Whatever you like, I want to get you out of these jeans. Any objection?"

"Hell, no!"

Hollis laughs again as Eddie struggles out of his pants and the washed to grey boxers under them. Hollis whistles in frank admiration. "Well, you've certainly got nothing to be ashamed of." At the look on Eddie's face, he rolls his eyes. "I'd say don't let that go to your head, but it's hopeless. Get on your knees and give me a minute."

Eddie shudders and slides to the floor, fists clenched to keep from touching himself, staring up at Hollis as he strips off the last of his clothing. "Enjoying the view, boy?"

"God, yes." His cock is actually twitching with his heartbeat, precome rolling down the sides and dripping from the tip.

"I believe it. Bet you could come just by looking, couldn't you?" Hollis strokes himself slowly, and Eddie moans, balls drawing up.

"Fffuck, I probably could." He squirms and drags his nails up his own thighs, leaving ten red tracks. He pinches his nipples hard, much harder than Hollis would have, and moans, shaking. "Hollis..." His voice rises to a desperate whine, "Hollis, please--"

"Please what, boy?" He comes closer, the tip of his cock nearly touching Eddie's face as he prowls a circle around him with one rough, proprietary hand in his hair. He gives it a sharp tug that makes Eddie gasp. "What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me." It's almost inaudible, and Hollis shivers.

"What was that?"

"Fuck me," he whimpers, "any way you want it, boss. It's your collar I'm wearing."

Hollis groans, and actually closes his eyes and counts to ten. "Okay. Okay. You let me know if we need to stop, y'hear?"

Eddie manages to grin a little. "Yeah."

"Get on your elbows and knees, it's easiest that way."

Eddie blushes and obeys, voice cracking as he squawks, "Hey, where the hell are you going?" as Hollis gets up and heads for the bedroom.

"Just wait a minute, brat." He's back in a moment with a bottle and a pillow, setting it down for Eddie to rest his head on. "Trust me, you don't want to do this dry." He gently nudges Eddie's knees further apart, slicking his hole and making him whimper and bite the pillow. "And you know we can always stop."

"Y-yeah, I know." He groans, his body easily accepting one finger. "Oh fuck, that's gonna be your cock, boss."

"That's the idea, yeah. You're probably gonna be the tightest thing I've ever felt." He kisses the small of Eddie's back and presses a second finger in. Eddie wails, and for a sick moment Hollis is afraid he's hurt him somehow. Then he feels the contractions around his fingers and realizes the kid is coming, his whole body rocking and convulsing with it. He curses breathlessly and bucks and bucks his hips, not done for what feels like forever. "All right there, kid?"

The only answer is a long, drawn-out whine. Hollis leaves his fingers where they are, and cuddles Eddie, letting him catch his breath. He apologizes, breathless and lost, and Hollis kisses him deeply. "I like seeing you come, boy. Don't worry about it." He adds a little lube, and works his fingers deeper, nibbling Eddie's ear as he groans and wriggles and gets hard all over again, his mouth hanging open and making desperate little mewling noises as Hollis stretches him.

"Ohh... oh _fuck_ , Hollis..."

He can't help but chuckle, opening Eddie up a little more. "Like that, boy?"

"Y-yessir." He pushes back on Hollis's hand, chest heaving as he pants.

"Good." Hollis gives his hand a little twist, and Eddie wails again, whining helplessly when Hollis pinches one nipple with his free hand, good and hard.

"Aaauuhh... Boss, that ain't fair."

"Life ain't fair, brat." He bites the back of Eddie's neck, making him whimper as he gives him a pinch on the other side that makes him buck desperately. "God, you're pretty."

"Boss--" It's a long, drawn-out whine of complaint, and Hollis laughs, pulling his fingers out and slapping Eddie's ass, making him jump and squeak.

"You ready?"

"Y-yeah. Fuck, please..." He buries his face in the pillow again, back arching and legs spreading wide, offering himself shamelessly. Hollis groans, and settles his knees inside Eddie's, pushing his legs further apart as he just thrusts through the slick, not pushing in yet, no matter how much Eddie tries to make him, whining and wriggling like a puppy.

"Easy, boy. Easy." Hollis grins as Eddie struggles to stay still.

"Please please please--"

"Y'know for a while I thought you didn't even know that word, you punk?" Hollis presses a kiss between Eddie's shoulder blades and he sobs, every muscle quivering.

"Please!" He sobs, and looks back at Hollis as best he can, eyes wide and filling with tears. "God, please, I can't--" Whatever he was going to say turns into a howl as Hollis lines up and sinks in. There's almost no resistance, Eddie's body swallowing him up, hips grinding back to take more. Hollis's groan melds with Eddie's, and for a minute that feels like forever they just rock together, Hollis barely pulling out a fraction of an inch, the pain of his rib forgotten as he crushes Eddie back against his chest. Eddie melts in his arms, whimpering and babbling as Hollis starts a slow, steady rhythm, deep and insistent.

He moans softly into Eddie's ear, nuzzling his cheek. "I was right, boy. You are the tightest thing I've ever felt." Eddie moans and clamps down on him so hard it almost hurts. He grunts and thrusts hard against Eddie's grip, making him wail and come again. This time Hollis has no choice but to follow, slamming into Eddie and staying there for a long time. Opening his eyes again, he's pretty he's actually dozed off on the poor kid, who's flat on his belly now, just breathing quietly. Hollis kisses the back of his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat. "All right, boy?"

"Yeah." He shivers pleasantly, and stretches under Hollis, purring. "Mm."

"...Gonna let me have my dick back any time soon?"

"MmmI'll think about it." He squeezes Hollis again and grins, wiggling out from under him. Hollis rolls to the side, avoiding the wet spot. "Made one hell of a mess of my carpet, boy."

"Like you care." He sits up and grins at Hollis, who grins back, feeling loose and lazy and happy.

"Maybe not so much just now." He's surprised to see Eddie blush, and sits up, pulling him into his arms again. He's going to say something reassuring, but just ends up groaning in pain.

"Boss?"

"Forgot about my rib." He kisses Eddie's cheek. "Help me up?" Eddie nods and bounces up, giving Hollis a hand. "You really are gorgeous." That makes him blush again, and Hollis grins and kisses him. "Come wash up with me."

The shower is almost to small for both of them, kissing under the lukewarm water. After some smart remarks and grab-ass, Eddie lets Hollis wash him, calm and quiet under the touch. As the kid leans back against him so Hollis can wash his scruffy hair, Hollis looks at the bruise on his wrist again, pressing another kiss to it when he's done. Eddie shivers. "Why d'you keep doing that?"

"I feel a little bad about that."

"Oh."

Hollis switches off the water, and leads him out, scrubbing the rug as clean as it'll get as Eddie rubs himself dry and flops onto the couch. "Mind if I get another beer?"

"Grab me one while you're at it." Reasonably satisfied, he's on the couch when Eddie gets back, and glad to accept his drink.

"You're about cleaned out, boss."

"Well, y'know," he pulls Eddie into his lap and kisses him again. "I wasn't expecting company."


	4. Anything You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last and very, very short chapter about Jon and Laurie.

Sometimes Laurie looks in the mirror and wonders what she is. It's beyond the question of hero or harlot, she doesn't even know if she's a dom or a sub anymore. It should be simple. She's living with Dr. Manhattan and wearing his collar. Hell, he really could crush her like a bug for her disobedience, but somehow that doesn't matter. Sure, he'll use his powers to suspend her in midair and fuck her in every hole at once while she can't even thrash or scream once in a while, but most of the time when she asks what she could do to please him, the answer is "anything you want, Laurel."

Like right now. He's lying under her and moaning as she hits him anywhere she wants with a little device of his own invention. It's like a miniature Tesla coil along with some kind of tachyon blaster, and one of the few things that can actually hurt him. Her omnipotent god yelps as she zaps his balls, and gazes up at her with those white eyes. "Another, master?"

"Please."

He moans when she obeys, and she shudders, dipping down and licking his cock where it strains back against his belly, the ring on her collar jingling. Jon's body being what it is, these sessions last as long as she wants them to. And there's a guilty thrill to always deciding, but Jon isn't really there. She can't make him cry, and she can't actually compel him to anything. As a sub that should relieve her, but it's mostly a disappointment. Now she zaps him again and asks him to come. He obliges her and then pulls her into indestructible arms to tickle her own climax out of her and hold her afterward, stroking her hair.


End file.
